


Say It Louder

by Miss_Vile



Series: Nygmobblepot One Shots [14]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Boy needs exposure therapy, Ed thinks he's cursed, First Kiss, He's just traumatized, He's not, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Love Confessions, M/M, Philophobia, mention of miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23226814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile
Summary: “If we are to begin anew and make this city cower before us, then we need to be able to communicate with one another. Our inability to do so previously was what destroyed us last time.”“This is different.” Ed frowned. He shifted in his seat and attempted to change the subject, “You should rest. Your eye must be-”“-No.” Oswald clicked his tongue, “None of that.”Their eyes met. Oswald's gaze was sharp and determined. It would be able to cut through the lies without much issue. There was no point in avoiding the inevitable.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Series: Nygmobblepot One Shots [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1396144
Comments: 16
Kudos: 104





	Say It Louder

**Author's Note:**

> We came up with this concept in the Discord and I had to write it. Wrote it all in one gulp.

“That _bitch_ stole our submarine!” Oswald howled. Pain radiated across the right side of his face, making even his teeth throb, “And by now she's probably landed somewhere on the mainland, impossible to track! And all we've been through these last months, we are once again left with nothing! _Nothing!_ ”

He thrashed in his seat. Growling and snarling at the injustice of it all. He waited for the pain in his eye to subside and sat there... waiting. Edward was abnormally quiet given their current predicament.

Oswald looked over at his friend. He was standing by the window and looking out at nothing. Oswald sighed.

“I understand your regret, but moping isn't going to do us any good.” he spat

“Regret?” Edward didn't turn to face his friend. Instead, he shifted on the balls of his feet and continued to stare into the void that was the moonlit street. The tone in his voice was filled with a palpable darkness.

“You should have left when you had the chance. I _gave_ you that chance, but then you threw it all away!” Oswald couldn't hide his bitterness. Edward had been stubborn and volunteered his own life just as the Penguin had on behalf of Gotham, “What a waste.”

The silence between them was drowned out by the sound of the fire. Edward had busied himself with it when they arrived back at the library. Doctor Thompkins had patched the Penguin's eye and face as best she could and assured the two of them that she would deliver antibiotics once Gordon received a shipment from the mainland. Their supplies of painkillers were limited but Ed had managed to steal a handful before they left the Green Zone.

It dawned on Oswald that his friend had barely spoken a word to him since Bane's defeat.

“Ed?” Oswald called out, not bothering to hide his irritation. Edward remained still, “Have I gone deaf or am I meant to suffer your silence?”

“I...” Edward's voice cracked. The stoic demeanor he insisted on wearing lately unraveled at the seams.

Oswald, sensing that his friend was distressed, shifted his tone like the flip of a coin, “If you would like to take this as your cue to leave, you may.”

“Would you prefer it if I left?” Edward asked, timid. His tone was akin to an animal trapped in a corner.

“We would be stronger together.” he was hopeful, but the corners of Ed's mouth dipped even further into a frown. The firelight made the lines on Edward's haggard face appear more gaunt and saturnine, “There's something else that's bothering you, isn't there?”

Edward's shoulder's tensed and that was confirmation enough. With gritted teeth, he pulled himself from the comfort of the chair and limped towards his friend. His partner in crime and brother at arms. They had been through quite the gauntlet over the years and Oswald owed him more than he could possibly say. He was arguably a better person thanks to his friendship and rivalry with the Riddler and, if that man needed Oswald to chisel away at whatever problem lay between them that evening, he would do so.

As Oswald approached him, he realized the extent of his friend's emotional distress. His eyes were glistening with tears and his breathing was erratic. Melancholia painted his features and it made Oswald's heart sink.

“For God's sake, say something,” Oswald responded to the situation with more exasperation than he meant to.

“I... can't.” Edward struggled through the words. It was like he was choking. Those two words alone seemed to exhaust him.

“Well, sit down at least.” Oswald's brow was knit together with concern.

He led Edward over to the chair opposite the one he was seated at previously. They had managed to stow away a crate of cheap whiskey. It wasn't Edward's poison of choice, but it would have to do. When he offered him the tumbler, Edward reached out and wrapped his fingers around Oswald's wrist. He was checking his pulse.

There was definitely something wrong.

Oswald gave a reassuring tap to his shoulder before walking over to his chair. Without giving it a second thought, he dragged his chair closer to the one Edward was sitting in.

“Tell me what's on your mind.”

“I can't.” Edward shook his head.

“Can't or won't?”

Edward closed his eyes and leaned back against the chair. He breathed in deeply through his nose and out through his mouth. He was quietly repeating a mantra to himself but Oswald couldn't make out the words.

“Have I done something to upset you?” Oswald asked. He hadn't thought he had, but he'd been wrong before.

Edward opened his mouth but no words came out.

“Your silence is very telling.” Oswald slumped back in his chair

“Sorry. I'm...” he sighed, “I'm having difficulty speaking.”

“ _You?_ Trouble speaking?” Oswald scoffed, “You never shut up.”

“When I was little... I couldn't talk.” Ed confessed

“Oh?” his eyes brightened. Edward had never spoken about his childhood before. It was no secret how his mother had impacted his life growing up and he had been curious how Edward's upbringing had shaped him.

“I've already said too much.” Edward's eyes darkened

“You clearly need someone to talk to.” Oswald said, “It's just me here. You can speak freely.”

“I wish that were true.” Ed's words barely reached Oswald's ears.

“We're friends, are we not?” Oswald raised an eyebrow, “If we are to begin anew and make this city cower before us, then we need to be able to communicate with one another. Our inability to do so previously was what destroyed us last time.”

“This is different.” Ed frowned. He shifted in his seat and attempted to change the subject, “You should rest. Your eye must be-”

“ _-No.”_ Oswald clicked his tongue, “None of that.”

Their eyes met. Oswald's gaze was sharp and determined. It would be able to cut through the lies without much issue. There was no point in avoiding the inevitable.

“Talk to me. Our gold is gone along with my _dog_. A dog whom I _assumed_ would remain in safekeeping, but clearly I was wrong. I think you owe me for that, at the very least.”

“No one is safe around me.” the words spilled out of him, acrid and dismal.

Oswald sighed, “If this is about my eye then you can just abandon that train of thought. This was bound to happen eventually.”

Edward hitched a breath and then sunk further down into the chair. No... there was something else going on.

“If I tell you... will you promise not to leave?”

“Of course!” Oswald gasped, “Please... Tell me everything.”

Edward scooted himself to the edge of his chair. He hung his head and dropped his shoulders. He ran his hands down his face. He needed something to fidget with as he spoke so he removed his glasses and rolled them around in his hands.

“I think I might be cursed.” Ed eventually spoke. He laughed after he said it. But not the same one that Oswald had grown so fond of. This was miserable laughter. Nervous and grating.

“Aren't we all?” Oswald scoffed

“I mean it.” he sighed, “There's a reason I keep everyone at a distance. And, before you start telling me that it just comes with the territory of being a criminal, I need you to listen to what I have to say.”

“I'm listening.” Oswald nodded

Edward took another deep breath and, as if cracking a dam, the words poured from his mouth, “It took me an embarrassingly long time to speak properly. I was developmentally delayed in that area.” he stifled a cry on his exhale, “But then my mom told me that I was going to be a big brother.”

Oswald's eyes widened. He hadn't known that Edward had any siblings.

“So I practiced. I was so excited to meet my little sister. One day, my mom was sitting on the couch. She told me she could feel her moving and I got really excited. Mom said that she could hear me if I spoke to her. So I hugged her belly and told my sister that I loved her... but then mom doubled over in pain. I didn't know what was happening...”

“Did she lose the baby?” Oswald asked, already having guessed the answer.

“She did.” tears fell freely from Edward's eyes, “A few months later I found this litter of kittens near a creek where I used to play. They had all died except for one. He was really sick. I was nursing him back to health. He was getting better. Stronger. I was looking forward to having something to care for and to love me in return. I told him I loved him and he died in my hands. He just... stopped breathing.”

“Death is a hard lesson. Especially for someone so young.”

“I didn't talk again until I was five. Well... I talked to myself. But I just wasn't able to get words out in front of other people. I went to speech therapy but I was still having difficulty.” he took a long pull of his whiskey before continuing, “It was my mom's birthday and I overheard her talking to my grandmother over the phone. She said that all she wanted for her birthday was to hear me talk. So, that afternoon I ran up to her and told her that I loved her... and her heart stopped.”

“I'm not disregarding your feelings on the matter. But, surely it was just a coincidence?”

“Oswald, how does a perfectly healthy twenty-five-year old's heart just _stop?_ ”

Oswald wasn't sure how to convince him. Or even if there was a point in _trying_ to convince him. He watched as Ed's shoulders began to shake once more.

“My father was mean to me after that. Without my mother's income, we barely got by. He started hitting me. I stopped going to therapy. I told him I loved him because I wanted him to die. But he didn't. I assume it was because I didn't mean it when I said it.”

“Where is he now?” Oswald asked

“Dead.” Edward's tone was flat. He didn't seem to want to elaborate more on that.

“Well... Good riddance.”

After several beats of silence and the crackling of the fire, Ed spoke again, “I didn't kill Kristen. At least... not in the way that I thought I did.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm not denying that I hurt her. I put my hand around her throat, but that shouldn't have killed her.” Ed sobbed, “I told her I loved her since the very first moment I laid eyes on her. I had whispered it under my breath a few times. When nothing happened, I allowed myself to believe that my fear had been for nothing. That it had all just been in my head...”

“And you're certain it wasn't?”

“I... I checked. I performed my own autopsy. She had an aneurysm. _That_ was what killed her! There was bruising on her brain that I couldn't explain. Like she'd been shaken or hit with something. But it wasn't from me.”

“Didn't you say her boyfriend before you was abusive? Perhaps it was an injury she got from him?” Oswald tried to make Ed see logic.

“...Perhaps.”

“Ed, why are you telling me all of this?” Oswald finally asked. He placed a hand on Ed's knee in an attempt to ground him.

“Because...” Ed held his breath, unsure of how to proceed.

There was another long stretch of unbearable silence. Ed seemed lost in thought.

“Ed?”

“I told Isabella that I loved her.”

“Yes. But I think it is safe to assume that her death was no fault of your own.” Oswald rolled his good eye. He was still uncertain as to where this conversation was heading and what it had to do with them and their restored friendship.

“It was still my fault. If she had never met me, she wouldn't have been put in harm's way.”

“Don't be ridiculous.” Oswald dismissed the notion. Edward flinched but didn't halt his explanation.

“I was too afraid to tell Lee that I loved her. I couldn't. She even tried tricking me into saying it, but I couldn't get the words out. They made me sick to my stomach. So I just swallowed my pride and allowed her to win.” Ed sighed, “As we were dying... she was suffering. Drowning in her own blood. I couldn't stand it. So I said it... and she stopped moving.”

“That was temporary. Hugo Strange was able to bring her back.” Oswald pointed out the obvious.

“A small mercy.”

“You still haven't answered my question.” he cocked his head to the side, his eye was throbbing as the pain killers were slowly wearing off, “You wouldn't be telling me all of this if it didn't serve some purpose.”

“I said it recently.” Edward's voice was pitched low. Like something ominous or sinister. Like he was still awaiting the inevitable.

“...Oh?” Oswald clenched his fist on the armrest of his chair. He despised how prone he was to petty jealousy, “To whom?”

“It was when we were at the barricade. You were mocking our enemy. You just looked so petulant and fierce. I didn't even realize I had said it until the deed was already done.”

Oswald blinked, “I don't think I heard to correctly.”

“It was a whisper.”

“N-No. I mean _just now._ I don't think I heard-”

“-I was so afraid of my mistake.” Ed blathered on, “We ducked behind the wall and I turned to look at you. You smiled and I thought that maybe the curse was broken... and then I heard the grenade.” Edward burst into tears, “I thought you were going to die in my arms.”

Unable to contain it any longer, Oswald threw himself around his friend. Edward tried to push him away, but Oswald wouldn't let him. He needed the reassurance that Oswald didn't reject him nor was he a figment of Ed's imagination.

“You love me?” Oswald craved clarity

“Don't make me say it.” Edward buried his face into the crook of his neck, “I don't want you to die.”

“Then tell me with your actions.”

Their kisses were desperate. Like drowning men sinking to the bottom of Gotham Bay. Their ankles buried in mud and decades-old clay. Their lungs burned like they were filled with saltwater.

They clung to each other. Oswald repeated the words “ _I hear you. I understand you. I love you, too.”_ while their naked bodies were enveloped in darkness and the fire died down to embers.

“I don't want to lose you,” Edward whispered into the dark.

“You won't.” Oswald kissed his forehead

“But what if I make another mistake?”

“You've already slipped up before and I didn't die.” he reminded him. He took Ed's hand into his own and placed it against his chest so that his lover could feel the steady beat of his heart. Edward continued to frown.

“Ed, you can't continue through life being too afraid to talk to me.”

“As long as you're near me, I don't think I will ever live a day without that fear.”

Several days passed. Edward is too afraid to touch him. Like Oswald is some fragile piece of glass that may crack if he were to do so much as breathe.

“I have something I would like to discuss,” Oswald told him as he led him to the dining room table at the newly restored Van Dahl estate.

Edward was visibly tense. He only ever bit his nails when he was nervous and often berated Oswald for the habit. The skin around Ed's nails was chapped and bloodied.

Oswald helped pry his hands away from his lips, kissed them, and then placed them onto the table. He turned away for a moment and then returned with an empty wine glass and a ceramic bottle. He removed the cork and poured a glowing green liquid into the glass.

“What is it?” Ed asked, completely entranced.

“A glass of contingency,” Oswald explained with a loving grin.

“For ...what?”

“I purchased it from Ivy. Cost me quite the pretty penny.” Oswald explained, “She called it Lazarus Water.”

“What does it do?”

“It resurrects the dead,” he explained it as if potions such as this one were an everyday occurrence for them. Which, nowadays, Edward was beginning to think was the case.

“Excuse me?”

“She assures me that it works.” he nodded with certainty, “Now... I want you to say those three words to me.”

“I beg your pardon?” Ed's eyes widened

“Say it.”

“You know I can't.” he felt like his throat was closing.

“You can. And you will.” Oswald rolled his eyes, “If something happens, have me drink this and everything will be fine.”

“No. I won't risk that.“ Ed shook his head violently. He was already suffering nightmares at the thought of it. What if he accidentally said it in his sleep? Or what if he had another moment of weakness like he had at the barricade?

“Ed.” he reached across the table and squeezed his hand, “I won't have you living the remainder of your life with such an irrational burden. Please. Let me prove to you that none of the hardships you have faced was because of some curse.” he chuckled, “And I certainly won't let you leave because you are afraid of hurting me.”

Edward stared at the swirling green liquid in front of him.

“I...” Ed tried to get the words out.

“Try telling me in a riddle.” Oswald's tone was even. Calm and patient. It almost didn't sound like him.

“I cannot be bought but I can be stolen with one glance. Worthless to one and priceless to two. What am I?”

“Love.” Oswald smiled

“I... Oswald, I... love... you.” His words came out garbled and barely above a whisper.

“Say it louder.” he insisted

“I can't.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I... love you,” Ed spoke more clearly while his gaze remained fixed on their conjoined hands. Oswald squeezed.

“Now, look me in the eye when you say it.”

Edward looked up, his eyes locked with otherworldly blue and green, “I love you.”

Oswald smiled, “I love you, as well.”

Edward listened to the ticking of the clock. A minute passed. He gasped and made his way around the table so that he could pull his beloved bird into an embrace that he would never let go of.


End file.
